Zachary, Jacob and I visited my friend yesterday at the college where I worked for the last several years. For some reason, Zachary thought it was a doctor's office. We explained to him that it was a school and that Miss Gayle was a teacher there.
Knowing that Brian is also a college professor, Gayle asked Zachary what his daddy did, thinking it would help him to understand that we weren't at a doctor's office. Zachary surprised us, though, when he answered "he builds beds". We do have 7 children, so Brian has spent a fair bit of time putting together beds. He's put together basinets, cribs, bunk beds, futons, and doll beds...he has, in fact, built a couple of beds from scratch, including our bed and the captain's bed he built for Rebecca before bunk beds entered our lives.
For follow up, Gayle asked Zachary what his mommy did, and he replied that I am a nurse. I am indeed a nurse...I have been an RN for 20 years and although I am not currently working in the nursing profession, it indeed remains a large part of my identity. I was feeling kind of proud and smug that he knew my profession and not his dad's.
Today, I wanted to see if Zachary had a different answer for yesterday's questions. You know the 3-year-old's imagination: things can change rapidly. Well, his responses were the same...dad builds beds and mom is a nurse. I went one step further today, though, and asked what mom does as a nurse. I was thinking maybe he'd say "give shots" or "help people". Nope. You see, 3-year-olds view relationships through the filter of how they are affected or might benefit. Knowing that, it shouldn't have come as a surprise when he stated "you nurse babies". Yep, I do....I've been breastfeeding my babies for nearly as long as I have been an RN!
I am not nearly so smug as I was yesterday...but I am humbled and happy. What could be more pleasing than being recognized by your child for providing a safe and secure place to lay his head and the food he needs to live? That is our job, a job we lovingly and gratefully accepted when we said "yes" to God's call for becoming parents. There is no more important profession nor part of our identity, after all, than that of being parents, and I thank Zachary for reminding me of that so clearly!
Time to get back to "work"...I need to lie Jacob in his basinet so that I can prepare Zachary some lunch!
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Conversations with a 3 year old
As we pulled into our driveway, Zachary struck up a conversation...as usual, he amuses me!!!Zachary: "Mom, where's Dad?"
Me: "He's in Seattle at work."
Zachary: "He's at Mt. Rainier. Oh no...it's a volcano."
Me: "You're right, it is."
Zachary: "I want Dad to come home. Mt. Rainier is a volcano and it's going to explode."
Me: "Reeeeeeally?
Zachary: "Yep. I can see it from my house."
Me: "Yes, you can." (Well...not today, but on a clear day.)
Zacahry: "Now, I need my bugs cleaned out of my ears (for some reason, he thinks that the earwax is bugs...go figure!) before the volcano explodes."
Me: "You do?"
Zachary: "Yep."
He proceeded to the bathroom to retrieve Q-tips (yes, I know, you're not supposed to use those that way...blah, blah, blah), got the bugs cleaned out (at least it's not bees today) and the conversation is over. I sure hope that his prediction on the volcano is like his trip to surf Crocodile Lake earlier this week. Just in case, I'll let Brian know that his boy would like him to come home soon!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Things I never imagined saying...
I am sure all parents have experienced it: something comes out of your mouth and you immediately think "I never imagined saying that!" I seem to encounter those moments every day. You know the ones I'm talking about. "Don't eat that dirt." "Underwear are for bottoms, not heads." "We don't eat in the bathroom." We've all said them, most days I've been known to say many!
Back in the day of only two children, when Rebecca was nearly three and Mariah was under a year, Brian and I took the girls to Friendly's. It is a restaurant back east that served American diner fare and is best known for its ice cream desserts. Rebecca wanted dessert, so we ordered the Royal Banana Split, thinking we had a win:win situation. Rebecca would enjoy the 3 flavors of ice cream and Mariah, our fairly new eater, would have a yummy banana to keep her happy. When the ice cream creation arrived, however, Rebecca wanted the banana. Out of my mouth, before I even thought about it came: "No you cannot have the banana, you must eat your ice cream." Really? I just insisted that my young daugher eat ice cream in lieu of a healthy banana? Brian nearly lost it, while I sputtered and attempted to make it sound reasonable that I just said what I said as my 2-year old was tearing up!!! I can only imagine the looks on the faces of the diners around us if they overheard me!
Yes, we've all said things we never imagined saying, but some are much more memorable than others and provide humor for years to come!
Yes, we've all said things we never imagined saying, but some are much more memorable than others and provide humor for years to come!
Friday, October 14, 2011
Terrible Twos?
Really, whomever termed it "Terrible Twos" had clearly NOT arrived at the threes yet! Twos have nothing compared with threes in my family...and today's three is a shining example. Our three year old has been having some issues, possibly due to all of the changes of being a new big brother and starting preschool, but today is a dozie!
I thought we were getting off on a good footing this morning: I was in and out of the shower before Zachary was up, we had breakfast orchestrated and ready to come out of the oven, and he was not fighting me on getting to the bathroom and dressed. THAT, however, was the end of the pleasantries. He took one bite of the apple oven pancake put together by his big sister and started spitting it out...noisily...proclaiming his dislike repeatedly. It was new. He had tried it. We offered alternatives. He began screaming at every offering, thus getting NO breakfast besides a raw apple this morning, before we headed out to school.
As we dropped off his siblings, Zachary said he wanted to go to Mr. Graydon's party. I don't know Mr. Graydon, because he AND his house are imaginary, so no going to the party: more screaming! Pulling into the coffee shop's drive thru, I ordered my usual half-caf (seriously considered upping the ante this morning, though) and a flavored milk, thinking I could sweeten him up. More screaming!!! Fine..."no milk for you" Mr. Three!
Our plan to go to mass and then to the store no longer seemed feasible...three screaming fits and you're out! Instead, we headed home to the tune of "I don't want to go home!" screamed repeatedly for the entire 10 minute drive at a decibel that surely had all canines in a 10-mile radius howling in misery. I snickered as I turned up the radio (unsuccessfully trying to drown out the screams) and heard the line "Life is good today" being proclaimed by the Zac Brown Band! HA!
We're home & Zachary's in his room...not currently welcome with the general population (Jacob and myself) while screaming (only slightly muffled by the closed door that he is kicking). Maybe we'll get to feeling that "life is good today" if the shreiking ceases or I find some earplugs. Terrible twos? I'll take them anyday over Tremendously Trying Threes!!!
I thought we were getting off on a good footing this morning: I was in and out of the shower before Zachary was up, we had breakfast orchestrated and ready to come out of the oven, and he was not fighting me on getting to the bathroom and dressed. THAT, however, was the end of the pleasantries. He took one bite of the apple oven pancake put together by his big sister and started spitting it out...noisily...proclaiming his dislike repeatedly. It was new. He had tried it. We offered alternatives. He began screaming at every offering, thus getting NO breakfast besides a raw apple this morning, before we headed out to school.
As we dropped off his siblings, Zachary said he wanted to go to Mr. Graydon's party. I don't know Mr. Graydon, because he AND his house are imaginary, so no going to the party: more screaming! Pulling into the coffee shop's drive thru, I ordered my usual half-caf (seriously considered upping the ante this morning, though) and a flavored milk, thinking I could sweeten him up. More screaming!!! Fine..."no milk for you" Mr. Three!
Our plan to go to mass and then to the store no longer seemed feasible...three screaming fits and you're out! Instead, we headed home to the tune of "I don't want to go home!" screamed repeatedly for the entire 10 minute drive at a decibel that surely had all canines in a 10-mile radius howling in misery. I snickered as I turned up the radio (unsuccessfully trying to drown out the screams) and heard the line "Life is good today" being proclaimed by the Zac Brown Band! HA!
We're home & Zachary's in his room...not currently welcome with the general population (Jacob and myself) while screaming (only slightly muffled by the closed door that he is kicking). Maybe we'll get to feeling that "life is good today" if the shreiking ceases or I find some earplugs. Terrible twos? I'll take them anyday over Tremendously Trying Threes!!!
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Graduating the "bonus month"
Our Jacob surprised us on August 2 when he arrived 5 weeks before his due date and 4 weeks before his scheduled "eviction". He arrived at a good weight (nearly 7 pounds, 4 ounces), which gave him an advantage. The usual reaction to that news is "wow, can you imagine what he would have been if he'd made it to term?" Yes, we can, as the median weight of our seven children is 9 pounds, 11 ounces...we assumed that Jacob would definintely reach, if not exceed, that weight. Although weighing in large was an advantage, he was still very much a preemie and behaved as such.
The "bonus month", as a friend of a preemie refers to the month we weren't really expecting or ready for, brought some trials. Jacob was very jaundiced, and endured daily lab tests for elevated bilirubin, "sunbathing" and forced feeds. He was also a poor nurser, as many premature infants are, which resulted in a weight loss of over a pound his first week and a month of visits to the lactation nurse, using breastfeeding aids and force-feeding to get things going. For the first 3 weeks, he and I lived in a cave (my bedroom) with a nurse/pump/supplement schedule going every 2-3 hours around the clock, with naps in between that routine. Our other children wondered if they had a mother, I am sure! Fortunately, Brian was on summer break, as were the children, which eased up our running around and allowed him to chauffer us to/from appointments. We received delicious hot meals delivered every evening for three weeks arranged through the Martha Ministry, a group from our parish that provides meals for during difficult times for parishioners, such as illness, new babies, adoptions and the like. We were truly blessed!
Jacob is now eight weeks old and has officially been a "newborn" and not a "preemie" for three weeks, and is behaving accordingly. His visit at the pediatrician today had him weighing in at 9 pounds, 13 ounces (which is what both of his brothers were at birth) and 23 inches in length (over 3 inches since he was born). He "graduated" from the lactation nurse last week because he was nursing exclusively without breastfeeding aids and was gaining weight so well. We're getting a stretch of about five hours of sleep at night, which is a vast improvement over 2-3 hours. And, to top it all off, he has rolled over from his stomach to his back over the past two days! He is definitely on track developmentally and is such a wonderfully loved and cuddly addition to our family. I am thankful that he is growing and developing, but I am also very thankful for and will miss that "bonus month" that he has graduated from.
The "bonus month", as a friend of a preemie refers to the month we weren't really expecting or ready for, brought some trials. Jacob was very jaundiced, and endured daily lab tests for elevated bilirubin, "sunbathing" and forced feeds. He was also a poor nurser, as many premature infants are, which resulted in a weight loss of over a pound his first week and a month of visits to the lactation nurse, using breastfeeding aids and force-feeding to get things going. For the first 3 weeks, he and I lived in a cave (my bedroom) with a nurse/pump/supplement schedule going every 2-3 hours around the clock, with naps in between that routine. Our other children wondered if they had a mother, I am sure! Fortunately, Brian was on summer break, as were the children, which eased up our running around and allowed him to chauffer us to/from appointments. We received delicious hot meals delivered every evening for three weeks arranged through the Martha Ministry, a group from our parish that provides meals for during difficult times for parishioners, such as illness, new babies, adoptions and the like. We were truly blessed!
Jacob is now eight weeks old and has officially been a "newborn" and not a "preemie" for three weeks, and is behaving accordingly. His visit at the pediatrician today had him weighing in at 9 pounds, 13 ounces (which is what both of his brothers were at birth) and 23 inches in length (over 3 inches since he was born). He "graduated" from the lactation nurse last week because he was nursing exclusively without breastfeeding aids and was gaining weight so well. We're getting a stretch of about five hours of sleep at night, which is a vast improvement over 2-3 hours. And, to top it all off, he has rolled over from his stomach to his back over the past two days! He is definitely on track developmentally and is such a wonderfully loved and cuddly addition to our family. I am thankful that he is growing and developing, but I am also very thankful for and will miss that "bonus month" that he has graduated from.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Ahhh...the joys of motherhood
I love being a mother. Why else, of course, would I have become a "new mom" so many times? However, there are certain aspects of motherhood that no mom truly loves or takes much joy in.
There are, of course, the sleepless nights...my husband and I have spent a large number of nearly sleepless nights over the years. There are the newborn nights, the nightmares and the illnesses that all parents deal with. We are in the midst of another round of newborn nights, so if you see me napping in my van at school pickup time and most parents have picked their children up from the playground, please knock and wake me up. However, if you see me napping and the children are not yet released, please let me catch the next few blessed minutes of oblivion...they might be the only ones I'll see that day!
Another area of motherhood that I find little to no joy in revolves around the housework. Our house often looks as if a mini-cyclone has gone through. In truth, the cyclones in my home come in many sizes, starting about the time the children learned to crawl. Once upon a time, when there was only one sweet, cherubic child who was mobile, I thought this was easy to deal with...you just simply pick up the toys that are lying about the little love's room and toss them into the bucket in the corner and throw their cute little clothes into the wash. That method didn't bode well for us, I am afraid. As our family size has increased, the size of our home has decreased (surprises me, too). We have toys and clothes in every single area of our house and yard...and don't get me started on the shoes! I am definitely NOT attached to my children's belongings, and clearly they aren't, either, as they are all over my house. Now that I am a declared full-time homemaker, I hope to get a handle on this...if the sleepless nights allow.
The area of motherhood that I am particularly disenchanted with today are the changes that it causes in my body. Pregnancy necessitates changes and God has created a miracle in the maternal body's ability to provide a safe haven for the new baby, bring him forth into the outside world and nourish him for some time as an infant. It is a beautiful thing! What is not beautiful, however, is the weight that is surely still around from my first and subsequent pregnancies, the widened hips from expansion of the pelvis to birth our babies, abdominal muscles torn as the uterus demands more room, and all things associated with the recovery from childbirth (specifically c-section, in my case). The most annoying to me today, however, are the effects that my pregancy has had on other areas of the body, specifically my ankles. Many women experience swelling of their ankles, as did I, and are overjoyed when our ankles return to "normal", no longer resembling sausages in casings, and I was no exception. However, I have had an increase of ankle pain over the past 2 weeks, which I was associating with a fall back in March. At the time, the PA decided to treat my injury as a sprain, and to not x-ray because I was pregnant. Today, I visited the orthopedic doctor, who x-rayed both ankles. Fortunately, there was no sign of fracture and everything was normal "for someone my age". Unfortunately, the diagnosis was soft tissue inflammation of the synovial spaces due to pregnancy-related loosening of the joints. The prescribed treatment is ibuprofen around the clock and neoprene wrap, both of which I was already doing without a visit to the doctor.
The prognosis: the synovitis should clear up with or without treatment in a mere six to nine months! Maybe the sleepless nights due to a newborn will be gone by then as well...I'm not holding my breath for the chaos in the house to improve for a couple of decades, though!
There are, of course, the sleepless nights...my husband and I have spent a large number of nearly sleepless nights over the years. There are the newborn nights, the nightmares and the illnesses that all parents deal with. We are in the midst of another round of newborn nights, so if you see me napping in my van at school pickup time and most parents have picked their children up from the playground, please knock and wake me up. However, if you see me napping and the children are not yet released, please let me catch the next few blessed minutes of oblivion...they might be the only ones I'll see that day!
Another area of motherhood that I find little to no joy in revolves around the housework. Our house often looks as if a mini-cyclone has gone through. In truth, the cyclones in my home come in many sizes, starting about the time the children learned to crawl. Once upon a time, when there was only one sweet, cherubic child who was mobile, I thought this was easy to deal with...you just simply pick up the toys that are lying about the little love's room and toss them into the bucket in the corner and throw their cute little clothes into the wash. That method didn't bode well for us, I am afraid. As our family size has increased, the size of our home has decreased (surprises me, too). We have toys and clothes in every single area of our house and yard...and don't get me started on the shoes! I am definitely NOT attached to my children's belongings, and clearly they aren't, either, as they are all over my house. Now that I am a declared full-time homemaker, I hope to get a handle on this...if the sleepless nights allow.
The area of motherhood that I am particularly disenchanted with today are the changes that it causes in my body. Pregnancy necessitates changes and God has created a miracle in the maternal body's ability to provide a safe haven for the new baby, bring him forth into the outside world and nourish him for some time as an infant. It is a beautiful thing! What is not beautiful, however, is the weight that is surely still around from my first and subsequent pregnancies, the widened hips from expansion of the pelvis to birth our babies, abdominal muscles torn as the uterus demands more room, and all things associated with the recovery from childbirth (specifically c-section, in my case). The most annoying to me today, however, are the effects that my pregancy has had on other areas of the body, specifically my ankles. Many women experience swelling of their ankles, as did I, and are overjoyed when our ankles return to "normal", no longer resembling sausages in casings, and I was no exception. However, I have had an increase of ankle pain over the past 2 weeks, which I was associating with a fall back in March. At the time, the PA decided to treat my injury as a sprain, and to not x-ray because I was pregnant. Today, I visited the orthopedic doctor, who x-rayed both ankles. Fortunately, there was no sign of fracture and everything was normal "for someone my age". Unfortunately, the diagnosis was soft tissue inflammation of the synovial spaces due to pregnancy-related loosening of the joints. The prescribed treatment is ibuprofen around the clock and neoprene wrap, both of which I was already doing without a visit to the doctor.
The prognosis: the synovitis should clear up with or without treatment in a mere six to nine months! Maybe the sleepless nights due to a newborn will be gone by then as well...I'm not holding my breath for the chaos in the house to improve for a couple of decades, though!
Monday, September 19, 2011
Newly baptized boy
The baptism itself was a bit of a circus...the numbers of children at the baptism was plentiful (and not just from the families of the newly baptized). It was a great witness to how wonderfully welcomed children are into our faith, our families and our parish. We are truly blessed!
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